


Come Back Home

by GoddessOfDestruction



Category: GOT7
Genre: 2Jae, Alcohol Abuse/Alcoholism, Alternate Universe, Angst, Blood and Gore, Emotional/Psychological Abuse, Established Relationship, Eventual Happy Ending, Implied/Referenced Homophobia, Implied/Referenced Sex, Language, M/M, Physical Abuse, Prostitution, Romance, Smoking, Suicidal Thoughts, Time Skips, Verbal Abuse
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-07-21
Updated: 2017-07-21
Packaged: 2018-12-05 04:58:05
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 1
Words: 7,898
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/11570799
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/GoddessOfDestruction/pseuds/GoddessOfDestruction
Summary: As long as they’re together, they are home.





	Come Back Home

**Author's Note:**

> All the events happen chronologically but there are time skips between them.
> 
> I was listening to BTS’ cover of “Come Back Home” by Seo Taeji and then I watched the MV and remembered all of their HYYH series, rewatched the MVs and ended up here. So, this fanfiction was (slightly) inspired by BTS’ HYYH series, and initially it was supposed to include all the GOT7 members but since the focus would be mostly on 2jae, I decided to make it about the two of them alone.
> 
> Also, I chose to use all of these tags because… better safe than sorry isn’t it how it goes? 
> 
> Anyway, I hope you enjoy reading this.

After a long, tiring shift at the restaurant, working as a scullion, Youngjae is exhausted, physically and mentally. He decides to go to the PC bang he sometimes goes to and spends a couple of hours playing, alone. He doesn't realize how much time has passed; the moon has been up in the sky for a while now. He pays for his expense and leaves quickly. He walks hurriedly though the streets of Seoul, earphones in his ears. Youngjae feels a lump in his throat, his legs have turned to jelly, when he realizes that, according to his father’s standards, it’s already past dinnertime. He's hoping that his father hasn't yet noticed that he isn't home. His mother passed away during labor and ever since then his father hated him. The first time he beat up Youngjae, he wasn't even old enough to say his name. After that day, beating up his son became something of a stress reliever for the man. His father doesn’t really care if he was home or not; he just wants his son to be home to cook his meals.

Youngjae quietly swings the front door open and toes off his shoes by the entrance hall. The TV is on and, through the reflection on the window, he sees that his father is lying on the couch, dead drunk. He also notices a bottle of whiskey half empty over the coffee table. Silently he makes the way to his bedroom. He tosses his phone over his bed and starts stripping off his clothes, changing into a T-shirt and sweatpants, getting ready to sleep. He lies face up in bed and quickly types a message to his boyfriend, telling him that he has arrived home, and wishing him good night. He grabs from under his pillow a very creased postcard that depicts the beautiful, picturesque scenery of Jeju. On the back of it is written _‘One day, you and me will be here.’_ He smiles, imagining himself in the island with Jaebum, without worries, without concerns. He ends up falling asleep, thinking about it. Youngjae awakes up startled, being abruptly pulled up into a sitting position, a strong hand twisting the collar of his T-shirt.

“Where have you been?” his father slurs, completely drunk.

“I – uh – I had to help out at the restaurant after hours,” Youngjae gulps with difficulty, the grip on his T-shirt getting tighter, nearly choking him. Tears are brewing in his eyes as he tries to speak and feels out of breath. “I forgot to call you, to tell you about it.”

“Oh, you forgot? How about I teach you about not forgetting things?”

He learnt the hard way that the more he pleads for mercy, the harder he gets beaten up, so he keeps quiet and closes his eyes, hoping for all to be over soon. Youngjae is left on the floor of his bedroom, wheezing from the many kicks and punches he took to the torso. He tastes blood in his mouth; it trickles down his nose, thickly. His left eye is throbbing, he has a cut on his lip, and he feels a growing pain in his chest and stomach. Gripping the edge of the bed, he pushes himself off the floor, and grabbing only his phone, he walks out of his bedroom. In the living room, his father is drinking again.

“Where are you going?”

“Fuck off!” Youngjae spits out through gritted teeth, putting on his shoes.

He lets the front door slam shut behind him. There’s only one place he wants to go to right now. He starts running down the street, tears stream down his face and drip off his chin. He can barely breathe but doesn’t stop running. Not until the bustling city is behind him and he encounters the set of stairs that lead up into the forest. The walk up there takes him, today, longer than usual, for obvious reasons. Jumping over the fence and brushing away the tree branches are tasks proved to be more difficult to do today as well. Taking his time, Youngjae manages to walk into the fenced up area. He's at the dilapidated outdoor swimming pool, a place that has become his home. The once soothing hue of light blue paint that colored the swimming pool is now flaking, graffiti’s done here and there. Weeds grow from the floor, tiny toads hop from puddle to puddle.

He expected to be the only one here but one look at the old mattress that lies in the middle of the abandoned pool lets him know that if his boyfriend is here, instead of being in his crappy motel room, then it means that his night is being as shitty as his. Jaebum, wearing an oversized black hoodie and blue sweatpants tucked into his socks, lies face up on the mattress. A bottle of cheap soju is placed next to him; he blows out puffs of smoke, enjoying his cigarette, while contemplating the night sky.

"Hyung," he calls out, standing on the edge of swimming pool.

Jaebum sits up and looks at him. The moonlight exposes the younger’s bruises.

"Shit," that's the only thing he says before getting up and throwing away his cigarette, stepping on it to put it out.

The two make the way to the old changing room that is even more degraded than the swimming pool. There's no water or electricity, and the interior is practically all vandalized, from broken windows to missing doors. The only things that are still in a relatively good shape are a few benches and a couple of lockers. In those, the boys keep some clothes, medicines and non-perishable food.

Jaebum fetches the first-aid kit while Youngjae takes a seat on one of the benches. He strips off his T-shirt and points his phone's lantern at his bruises. Jaebum squats in front of Youngjae, carefully cleaning his blood and patching up his cuts. He takes a look at his chest; as always his pale skin is covered in different sized and colored bruises. Youngjae unconsciously holds his breath and watches his hyung tentatively pressing on his bruises, checking for any sign of internal injuries. He stops, lightly tracing a scar on his ribs with his thumb; a few weeks ago, that was a big, nasty gash. He heaves a sigh, falling to his knees, still looking at it.

"It's ok, hyung."

"No, it's not," Jaebum says, voice breaking. "It's gonna be with you, forever."

"At least it doesn't hurt anymore."

He helps Youngjae putting on a clean T-shirt. Jaebum presses a kiss into his boyfriend’s hair before grabbing the first-aid kit, to put it back in the locker. Youngjae hugs him from behind, resting his forehead against his broad shoulders. Jaebum stops to enjoy the closeness for a while before grabbing one of Youngjae's hands and pulling him outside. The two walk in silence and lie down on the old mattress. Jaebum is lying face up and Youngjae uses his hyung's chest as his pillow, draping one arm one over his waist.

"I’ve told you before, you know that you can come and live with me," Jaebum speaks quietly. "It's a really crappy room, but at least you'll be away from that animal."

"He'd find me and drag me home."

"You can't continue to live like this. I won't let you continue to live like this."

Youngjae lifts his head, the corner of his lips lift into a small, sad smile.  He leans forward to kiss his lips; Jaebum pulls his head away.

"Sorry. It's just today – you know."

Today, once again, he had to get on his knees and suck some guy’s dick to make some money. Whenever that happens, Jaebum doesn’t even peck Youngjae's cheek. He feels nauseous just thinking about his filthy lips being any near Youngjae. He stretches his hand to grab the bottle and sits up; Jaebum can tell that he is upset for having been denied a kiss.

Jaebum sits up and slowly runs his hand up Youngjae’s back as he speaks, “We’ve been over this, Jae.”

“I know,” Youngjae says before drinking a big gulp of soju. “And I’ve told you that I understand.”

One time, Youngjae risked stealing a kiss from his boyfriend, even though he had pulled his head away like today. Jaebum was furious, pushing Youngjae away, yelling at him. The poor boy was shaking in fear but after hearing Jaebum’s explanation, he understood that his boyfriend will never kiss him while he still has someone else’s taste in his mouth.

“I’ll give you as many kisses as you want tomorrow.”

“Promise?” the younger looks back, eyes sparkling with anticipation.

Jaebum smiles, lying down on his back again, “Promise.”

Youngjae puts the bottle aside and lays his head on Jaebum’s chest again. This time, Jaebum wraps his arms around him, hugging him close. The two fall asleep in a matter of minutes, and for a moment there, their lives don’t seem so shitty.

Jaebum made the mistake of coming out to his parents when he was seventeen. His father didn’t hesitate in kicking him out of the house; his mother did nothing to stop him. He now lives at a crappy motel room, paying for his stay with the money he makes working at the convenience store, and with the extra money he makes by being a sex toy for any man or woman who asks him for a quick fuck. He meets Youngjae when, one day, he runs into the convenience store he works at, tears rushing down his face. He says that his father is about to come home and that he has nothing to cook for dinner. The situation happens a few more times before Jaebum convinces him to meet him at the abandoned swimming pool deep into the forest by the Seoul National University. The boy, only sixteen of age then, shows up, nervously fiddling with the sleeves of his hoodie. He finds Jaebum sitting on an old mattress (that clearly didn’t belong there and had most likely been brought to that place by Jaebum himself), keeping warm thanks to a small fire he had started, eating hard pretzels and drinking soda. He tells Youngjae to join him, and even though he is still nervous, he takes a seat next to his soon-to-be-boyfriend and the two eat in relative silence.

\---

Youngjae arranges the white lilies that he had just put in the vase before taking a seat on the grass.

"Hi mom," Youngjae heaves a long sigh, looking at the gravestone. "Today's the day. I know I've said it before, but today is the day. Today I'm leaving the house. I tried to help dad, I really did. There was a time when I thought that I was not doing enough to help him but then I realized that he doesn't want any help. I..." he swallows hard, his eyes burning with unshed tears. "I'm tired of the life I'm living. I want... I want to be happy, I want to feel loved, I want... I haven't told Jaebum hyung yet, but he's always saying that I can go live with him at the motel, so... I really hope we can work it out." He nods, looking down. "Look after me. Please," Youngjae blinks, a tear rushes down his face. He wipes it away with his thumb. "And look after Jaebum hyung too. He's all I have and honestly if it wasn't for him I - I don't know...” his voice grows quieter, “I don’t know if I’d be here today." He gets up, dusts off his jeans, and taps the top of the gravestone, "Love you."

When Youngjae walks in the house, he’s glad to know that his father hasn’t yet arrived. He goes straight to his bedroom and fetches his old gym bag. He raids through his drawers and closet, picking out the clothes he thinks he’ll need the most. There are two things that he put on top of his bed; he will not leave the house without them.

The first thing is the Jeju postcard that Jaebum had given him for his twentieth birthday. Jaebum had bought it in Jeju when he was vacationing there, back when he still lived with his parents, back when they still called him their son. Jaebum loved the island and his father told him that he should visit Jeju one day in the future, this time with the love of his life (his father used feminine pronouns but Jaebum disregarded it).

The second thing Youngjae has to carry with him is the family’s ring; it had been given to him by his grandmother who he saw very rarely. She told him it once belonged to her father who then gave it to her, and ultimately she gave it to her son, Youngjae’s father. On the day of his wife’s funeral, Youngjae’s father gave the family ring back to his mother and tossed his wedding ring in the river (he just didn’t toss his son in the river as well because he knew he’d end up in jail). Youngjae was given the family’s ring when he must have been five or six-years-old; his grandmother had come to visit and offered it to him.

The front door opens and then slams shut, loudly. It’s his father, and he sounds angry. Youngjae hurriedly tries to hide the bag under the bed but his father is already at the door of his bedroom, asking for dinner. He stops midsentence, looking from the bag to his son’s panicked expression.

“What’s in the bag?”

“N – n – nothing,” Youngjae stammers. His hands are clammy and his throat is dry.

“What’s in the bag?” his father asks again, his tone sounds angrier with each word.

Youngjae is quiet and still for a moment, his head hurting from overthinking, but then he feels something taking over him; he’s tired of being scared. “I’m leaving.”

His father laughs hard, loudly, like he’s just been told the funniest joke in the world.

“You’re leaving?” his laugh subdues and he’s slowly becoming angry and scary again. “I think I have a saying on that.”

“No, you don't. I’m twenty-one. I can do whatever I want.”

“And where you’re going to live? And with whom? No wait, don’t answer me that one. You’re going to live with –” he shakes his head reprovingly. “I didn’t raise you to become _that_.”

“You didn’t raise me to begin with.”

The sound of his father's hand slapping his cheek echoes in the bedroom. His cheek is tingling, growing red. He bites his lower lip, inhaling thoroughly.

“Now put your shit back where it was and come make dinner. I’m starving,” he says as he’s about to leave the bedroom.

“I don’t think you heard the part where I said that I’m leaving.”

His father walks back a few steps, “And I don’t think you heard the part where I said I’m starving.”

“You’re starving, make dinner. It’s not rocket science,” he says, turning to grab his bag.

Youngjae doesn’t remember much of what happens next. He remembers having fallen to his knees, being beaten up, but a hard kick to the head makes him feel like he’s trapped in a heavy black cloud; he can’t even feel pain anymore.

The last thing Youngjae remembers is his father saying something like, “Now I’m going to have a talk with that boyfriend of yours for putting shit ideas in your head.”

The man leaves the bedroom after beating up Youngjae for what it seemed like an eternity. Youngjae is left curled up on the floor, almost choking on his own blood. It comes out of his nose, out of one of his ears, it drips from his busted lips, drips from his forehead as his father smacked his head against the wall a couple of times. The sight is gory; his face is covered in blood, he’s wheezing, his whole body is shaking. He wants to cry but he doesn’t even enough strength to do it. He wants to shout, to call out for help, but he can only let out some low mumbles.

Youngjae opens his eyes when he feels someone insistently kicking his leg. It’s morning already. He’s not sure if he fell asleep or if he passed out. He’s not sure either if he should be glad about the fact that he’s alive. He looks up and sees that it is his father who is kicking him.

“’m gonna take a shower. Get breakfast ready.”

He tries to push himself off the floor but his aching body quivers and he ends up sprawled on the floor again. He starts to cry; he’s in pain, physically and emotionally.  He wonders if this is the kind of life he’s destined to live. He really wants to die and put an end to all this suffering, but then he remembers the last thing he had heard his father say the night before; his heart skips a beat.

“Jaebum,” he whispers.

It hurts a lot to get up but Youngjae endures the pain and reaches for his phone. He calls his boyfriend and gets more and more anxious because he’s not answering. Jaebum never ignores his calls; at the very best he declines his calls if he’s busy. He spams him with fifteen texts in a row, asking him to call him, or to at least reply back, and assure him that he’s ok. Youngjae rushes to the kitchen to prepare his father’s breakfast because, since Jaebum isn’t replying, he needs to meet him whether at the motel or at his work, so he really can’t afford to upset his father right now.

“Wash yourself,” his father says while eating, “you look disgusting.”

Youngjae has to agree that he looks, and feels, disgusting, covered in dry blood. Since he won’t be leaving the house before his father leaves for work, he decides to take a quick shower. Even the water running down his skin hurts. Once he steps out of the shower, he takes a minute to look at his reflection in the mirror. His face looks just like it feels; it’s all swollen and bruised. He gets ready and waits a few minutes after his father leaves the house before going out as well. 

He’s relentlessly knocking on the door of Jaebum’s motel room, calling out his name, feeling worried and scared. A woman steps out of her room, which is two doors down from Jaebum’s room. Youngjae doesn’t know her in person, but he has heard Jaebum talk about her; she’s the nice lady that offers him some coffee every now and then.

“I’ve seen you here a couple of times,” the woman comments, mostly to herself, as she walks to Youngjae. “You’re looking for Jaebum-ssi?”

“Yes, I am. Have you seen him today? Or last –”

“He’s at the hospital downtown,” she says. Youngjae’s heart starts beating faster and faster. “Last night, I heard a lot of noise and when I stepped out of my room to see what was happening, I saw a man running out the door and Jaebum-ssi was lying on the floor. He looked like he had been beaten up. I got closer and saw that he had been stabbed in the neck with a shard of a cup or something.”

“Is he ok? Please tell me that he’s ok,” tears are streaming down Youngjae’s face and he isn’t even aware.

“I called an ambulance and kept on doing everything they told me to do. They said he’d be ok but I don’t know.”

Youngjae doesn’t even waste another minute there. He leaves the motel running, hails a cab, and, between sobs, he asks the cabbie to drive him to the hospital. He feels dizzy and nauseated and the feeling doesn’t go away until he’s led to the hospital’s infirmary and he sees Jaebum lying on one of the beds with a big bandage on his neck. He looks like he’s asleep so Youngjae approaches him carefully. Jaebum opens his eyes when Youngjae gently runs his fingers through his hair.

“I’m sorry,” Youngjae hasn’t yet stopped crying. “I’m so sorry. He caught me packing my things, I’m sorry –”

“It’s my fault,” Jaebum speaks slowly; the stabbing didn’t affect any critical artery but the stitches are bothering him. “You said he’d stop you from leaving but I kept on insisting. Look at what he did to you,” he raises his hand to cup Youngjae’s face, “it’s my fault.”

“I knew he was going after you, but I couldn’t stop him, hyung. I couldn’t even move.”

Jaebum reaches for Youngjae’s hand and gives it a tight squeeze, “It’s ok. We’re both ok, whatever that means for us anyway.”   

“I’m tired,” Youngjae looks down. “I’m tired of waking up in the morning and wondering if I’ll be alive by the end of the day.”

“Why don’t you go to your aunt’s house? She’s divorced, childless, she lives far –”

“And you? I can’t leave y –”

“It hurts me having you by side but knowing that it causes you so much pain. If going away means that you’ll be alright, then I’m the first one to tell you to leave. Look at me,” Jaebum asks when Youngjae starts to cry harder, “you do what you have to do. I’ll meet you when I can.”

He nods, “But I’m not leaving until you’re recovered. And I’ll make sure to tell my dad not to go any near you.”

“If your father comes any near me again, you’ll be visiting me in jail. Now that I think of it,” Jaebum smirks, “jail doesn’t seem like a bad place to live.”

“Don’t joke with that,” Youngjae says, the corner of his lips lifting into a small smile.

\---

Youngjae has been standing by the window of his bedroom for an hour now, waiting for his boyfriend. He finally shows up, wearing dark clothes, head covered with a cap. He waves at Youngjae, just in case he didn’t notice him, and waits for him to come outside. From under his bed, Youngjae grabs the sports bag. He slips the Jeju postcard on the back pocket of his jeans, slides his family's ring on his middle finger, grabs his phone and leaves his bedroom. Over the kitchen counter he leaves a note to his father that simply says,

_I'm going to Mokpo, to live with Auntie. If I know that you go any near Jaebum, if I know that you as much as breathe near him, I'll run all the way back here and rip your heart out of your chest._

_\- Youngjae_

As soon as he’s outside, Jaebum stretches out his hand to Youngjae. He holds his boyfriend's hand, their fingers intertwine. The way to the bus terminal is made in silence but Youngjae can tell by the way that Jaebum is holding his hand that he's not talking because he knows he won't be able to say a word without shedding some tears. Giving the late hours, the terminal is practically empty. Jaebum seizes the moment to kiss Youngjae like his life depends on it; he’s kissing him hungrily, wanting to keep the taste of him in his mouth forever. They pull back to breathe when their lungs burn without air. Jaebum peppers his face with little soft kisses and Youngjae melts down with the gesture, tears brewing in his eyes. Youngjae stops him, feeling overwhelmed, and pulls him for a hug. Jaebum buries his nose in the crook of his neck, taking in his scent one last time, hugging him close, relishing on his warmth, wanting to keep him in his arms for the rest of his life. He doesn’t know when will be the next time he’ll be with him.

“I’ll meet you as soon as I can,” Jaebum cups Youngjae’s face with both his hands, caressing his cheeks with his thumbs, “promise.”

Youngjae leans forward and pecks his lips, “I’ll miss you,” he whispers.

“I’ll miss you too.” He brushes a few of Youngjae’s hair away from his forehead to press his warm lips against his skin and give him a chaste kiss. He asks, “Do you have the ticket with you?”

He nods and opens the outer pocket of his bag, showing Jaebum the piece of paper that will grant him a new life. He looks behind his boyfriend, seeing the bus that will take him to Jeolla’s capital city; people are starting to get on board.

“Walk with me to the bus?” he asks, looking into Jaebum’s eyes.

“Of course.”

They stop at the door and let people get in, enjoying those last moments to be together. They kiss each other a couple more times, completely aware that people are watching them and that most of them are not approving seeing the two of them, two men, kissing each other. But they don’t care about what people think, they don’t have a clue of what they’ve been going through in their lives, they don’t know how hard this is being for them.

“Text me when you get there, ok?” Jaebum asks just as Youngjae is about to go on board. “I wanna know you’ve made it alright.”

“I will.” With teary eyes and a sad smile, Youngjae says, “Love you.”

“Love you too.”

Jaebum stays rooted at that exact spot he is standing and waves goodbye at his boyfriend. He stays until the bus leaves the terminal and disappears down the road. He stays until he has no more tears to shed, kneeling in the middle of the empty parking lot under the light of a gorgeous moon and bright stars.

Youngjae is in Mokpo some hours later. The sun is about to rise when he texts Jaebum, letting him that he has arrived safely. He’s currently standing in front of his aunt’s house, adjusting the strap of his sports bag on his shoulder, swallowing hard. He really hopes that she’ll let him stay. He really hopes that she’ll believe him, that she’ll believe that his father isn’t the person everyone thinks he is. He knocks on the door and waits patiently. The woman opens the door, hugging her robe against her chest; her eyes widened in surprise when she sees her nephew standing at her doorstep.

“Come in,” she says while stepping back, allowing Youngjae to enter. As soon as she closes the door, she’s bombarding him with questions, “What are you doing here? What happened to you?”

“Can I stay here, Auntie? I have nowhere else to go.”

“What do you mean you have nowhere else to go? What about your father? Youngjae, who did this to your face?” Youngjae snorts and lifts his T-shirt, showing her just a few of his bruises. “My goodness, Youngjae, what happened? Tell me.”

“Promise you’ll believe me.” He waits until she nods to tell her, “Dad does this to me. I couldn’t take it anymore.”

The woman is frozen, shocked, trying to process that information. “He does this – has – has this happened before?” He nods, looking down at his feet. “Since when, Youngjae? For how long has he been doing this to you?”

“Since…” he tries to pinpoint the moment when his father beat him up for the first time but he can’t remember. “Since ever, I guess.” Youngjae drops his bag on the floor and takes a seat on the couch. “For many years I believed that being beaten up on a daily basis was normal, that it happened to everyone…”

His aunt stares at him for a while before sitting next to him, "Then why didn't you turn him over to the police?"

"Because it's embarrassing. I'm – I still feel like a scared little kid when I'm with him."

"What made you leave now, after so many years?"

"I was packing my things, to go live with a friend,” he says, choosing not to disclose his sexual orientation to his aunt. “Dad caught me, beat me up and then went out and beat up my friend too. That hurt me more than everything he ever did to me."

"Is your friend ok?"

"Yeah, he's ok now. I only left once I was sure he’d be ok."

The woman frowns in confusion, "And no one wondered how come he got himself hurt? Does he live alone? What –"

"His parents kicked him out of the house when he was seventeen."

"Why?" She asks; Youngjae looks down, avoiding her gaze. She insists, "I want to know what kind of people you hang out with. Why did he get kicked out of the house?”

"He told them he's gay."

His aunt puts two and two together. "He's more than just a friend, isn't he?"

Youngjae nods, still looking down at his lap, "He's my boyfriend."

"Then why didn't you tell me that in the first place?"

He looks up at his aunt, lips quivering, "Because Jaebum's parents kicked him out of the house when he told them, dad beat me up when he found out, and I thought that you –"

"I don't care. I don't care who you like. I just care about your happiness. Does Jaebum makes you happy?"

Youngjae smiles, "Very much, yes."

"Then that's all I care about."

Youngjae hugs his aunt and cries. She rubs slow circles in his back, assuring him that everything will be alright from now on.

"I'm sorry for never noticing what your father put you through," she cries. "While we were growing up, I always noticed that he was a bit aggressive but I never knew he’d grow up to be like this. Please believe me."

"It was my fault. I killed mom –"

The woman pulls back, stroking his hair, "No, you didn't. You didn't do anything wrong, dear. It was not your fault. Don't ever say that again." She cups his face and looks him in the eyes, "Don't you ever say that again, you hear me?" Youngjae nods and sniffles his tears. “I hope you can understand but I can’t turn your father over to the police. Despite the horrible things he did to you, he’s still my brother. My focus from now on will be on helping you but I –”

“I understand, Auntie. It’s ok. Thank you for letting me stay."

The woman sighs, "Get some rest, alright? There's food in the fridge if you want to eat," she gets up from the couch and grabs his bag, "I'll prepare the guest room for you."

Youngjae lies down on the couch and takes a nap, a long, long nap. He wakes up with the smell of lunch being cooked and meets his aunt in the kitchen.

"Ah, you're awake. I was going to wake you up for breakfast but you were sleeping so peacefully that I didn't even dare to disturb you."

He smiles, "Thanks for letting me sleep in. Didn’t do that in a long time."

The woman offers a small smile, thinking of how miserable her nephew's life must have been for the boy to be thankful for being given the chance to sleep in.

"I’ve been thinking and… I think that there's enough room in this house for another person." Youngjae doesn't quite understand what does his aunt means; she then adds, "Why don't you call your boyfriend?"

"To – to live here? Are you serious?"

"Yes," she tries to say it as nonchalantly as she can but fails; her nephew's happiness makes her smile.

Youngjae calls Jaebum right away and he even has to put his aunt on the phone so that he hears the proposal from her and accepts it. Jaebum is in Mokpo two days later.

The woman demands only two things from them: they must find a part-time job, and they must get a college degree. Jaebum refuses it immediately, the college degree part, that is; he’s already living in her house, so he finds it an abuse to get a college degree at her expenses. His opinion apparently doesn't matter and he ends up telling Auntie (how he affectionately calls her too) that he was getting a degree in Veterinary Medicine but that he had to quit after being kicked out of the house. That's what he starts, well, restarts, to study, while Youngjae doesn't even hesitate in choosing to get a degree in Music Therapy.

\---

Jaebum, born and raised in the city, has discovered that he is a country boy at heart. He loves to sit on the steps in back of the house, basking in the sunlight. When he's not busy with school or work, he goes to a farm nearby that is owned by a neighbor of theirs, and helps out the man; he harvests the crops, feeds the animals, and even repairs a few things around the barn. He has brought home three cats and a dog, and on the weekends, he drags his videogame addict boyfriend out of the house for a walk by the river.

The more Youngjae looks at Jaebum, the more he knows that he has just discovered a new side of his boyfriend that he had never seen before, a side of him that only revealed itself once they moved to Mokpo. He smiles a lot more, he seems much more carefree, and his temper, once imposed by life’s hardship, has softened. It’s been two years already since they’ve been living with Youngjae’s aunt and, over that time, Jaebum has quit smoking and only drinks on special occasions (same goes for Youngjae), he’s a good student, and the perfect boyfriend. They are over the moon with the fact they now can be themselves.

“Hey,” Youngjae says softly, taking a seat on the steps next to Jaebum who is enjoying the sunlight.

He opens his eyes and looks at his boyfriend, offering a small smile, “Weren’t you going to your piano class?”

“I _am_ going. Just came looking for you to know if we’re still going to the movies later today.”

“Yeah,” he leans forward and pecks his lips. “I’ll wait for you by the theater. Maybe we can grab something to eat before.”

“Ok,” Youngjae kisses him and is about to get up when Jaebum grabs his wrist and makes him sit down on his lap. “Hyung, I don’t have time for this. I’m already running late and you know that my teacher –”

“Is that my shirt?”

“Maybe?” Youngjae bits his lower lip, “It’s just,” he wraps his arms around Jaebum’s neck, “we’ve been so busy whether it’s with school or work, that we haven’t really spent any time together in a while, just the two of us.” He smiles a bit shyly, “I miss you a little.”

“Just a little?” Jaebum raises a brow, cuddling him closer against his body.

“You know what I mean,” he whines, smacking him in the chest.

“So you don’t wanna go to movies tonight? You wanna stay home?”

“Auntie told me that she’s going over to a friend’s house and –”

“And I didn’t know that,” Jaebum chuckles and kisses him while squeezing his thigh. “Don’t worry, we’ll make the most of our time alone.”

“Alright, great, but,” Youngjae tries to get up hut Jaebum is still holding him tightly, “I really need to go now.”

“Do you really?”

“Yes,” Youngjae gets up and points at the cat he sees sitting on top of the house’s wall, “and you need to feed your cats.”

“ _Our_ cats.”

“They’re all yours. Dogs are way better.”

“Yah,” Jaebum says in a playful tone, “don’t insult cats unless you want to have sex tonight.”

“I could kill all the cats that are in the world in front of you and you’d still want me.”

“True,” the older acknowledges, slapping Youngjae’s butt. “I swear, if you are not the eighth Wonder of the World then you sure are the first.”

Youngjae laughs hysterically as he walks away.

Later that day, after dinner, Jaebum and Youngjae are cuddling on the couch, watching some movie that is playing, when Auntie grabs her purse and tells them that she's leaving to visit a friend. As soon as she's out the door, Jaebum’s fingers crawl up under Youngjae’s shirt. The younger straddles his lap and they start making out right then and there. They move from the couch to their bedroom; the air is warm, filled with the sound of skin slapping and wet kisses, little moans, heavy breaths, their names slipping from each other's lips like a prayer. They whisper instead of being loud and it makes the moment even more intimate and passionate. Jaebum tops the first time, and Youngjae during their second round. Lying side by side, facing each other, Jaebum and Youngjae feel the ecstasy of the two orgasms slowly simmering down. Their skins glisten, covered in a thin layer of sweat, their hairs are tousled and their breaths are still a bit ragged. Jaebum plays with the little, sweaty hairs of Youngjae's nape while, in return, he draws little patterns on his boyfriend's skin with the tip of his fingers.

"We can go for another round if you want to," Jaebum says.

Youngjae giggles quietly, looking at him through half-lidded eyes, "You're almost asleep."

"I know. But for you I'll do anything."

"I'm exhausted too,” he leans forward, kissing him on the crook of his neck, "and we need to take a shower."

"Um, let's go then before I fall asleep."

After taking a shower, Youngjae goes to their bedroom, to get dressed, while Jaebum stays in the bathroom, brushing his teeth, towel wrapped around his waist. Jaebum draws a smiley face on the fogged mirror before leaving the bathroom to put on some clothes too; his boyfriend smiles when he walks in and sees it. Youngjae's phone rings.

"Can you pick it up, please?" Youngjae asks from the bathroom, half of his words come out muffled because he's brushing his teeth at the same time. "If it's someone from college, make up some excuse. I'm not in the mood to help people with homework right now."

Jaebum chuckles as he reaches for the phone, "I got it, don’t worry."

When Youngjae enters the bedroom, Jaebum is hanging up, "Who was it?"

"It was from the hospital, in Seoul. They said your father died about an hour ago due to complications caused by cirrhosis."

Jaebum looks at Youngjae, trying to gauge Youngjae’s reaction. He looks more confused than anything else; he didn’t even know that his father was sick. Youngjae didn’t like his father, but he didn’t wish his death. He might have wished that when he was beating him up, but not now. Now, Youngjae is happy and free, and had completely forgotten about his father and the miserable life he lived before.

"I think I should go to the funeral," he blurts. "Just so that the neighbors don't have a reason to criticize me one day later."

Jaebum nods, "I'm going with you, then. And I'm sure Auntie will want to go too."

"I'll tell her in the morning," Youngjae says, getting under the bed covers.

"How're you feeling about it, Jae?" Jaebum takes a seat on the edge of the bed.

"I'm alright," he offers a smile, "don't worry."

Jaebum leans down to kiss his cheek before lying down next to him. He wraps his arm around Youngjae, feeling him pressing his body back against his chest. When Jaebum wakes up in the middle of the night, he's sleepily staring up at the ceiling and he can't feel Youngjae's warmth next to him. He gets up and pads the way to the living room where he finds his boyfriend sitting on the couch, lost in his thoughts.

"Can't sleep?" Jaebum asks, voice raspy, sleep-laced.

"Uh, just came to grab a glass of water," he answers awkwardly, getting up.

"Where is it then?"

Youngjae scratches the back of his head. He knows he's been caught lying and yet he tries to cover up with another lie. "Alright, I was waiting for Auntie."

"I just passed by her bedroom. The door was slightly open and I saw her in bed." Jaebum walks to him and laces his arms around Youngjae's waist, resting his forehead against his. "Talk to me. Whatever it is that you're feeling, I can assure you that it's absolutely normal."

"Is it? Is it normal that I feel relieved that he's dead?"

"Yes, it is," he pulls back just enough to look him in the eyes. Slowly running his fingers through his hair, he continues, "Your father put you through hell. Not even animals do stuff like that to each other. Are you relieved that he's dead? Me too. Now I know that he'll never lay a finger on you. Not that I'd let him do that to you again but..."

"The night after I came home from visiting you at the hospital, when he stabbed you," Youngjae lightly traces the scar on Jaebum's neck with his index finger, "I grabbed a knife and stood next to him for a good half an hour while he was sleeping. I just didn't kill him because I knew I'd end up in jail and would be away from you."

"I'm glad you didn't do it. He was not worth it." Youngjae rests his forehead in Jaebum’s shoulder. He heaves a long sigh. “Let’s go to sleep now?”

At first Youngjae only nods but then he looks up and asks, “Can you hold tight, Bumie?”

“I can, but if I hug you any tighter I might smother you.”

“I’d be happy to die in your arms.”

“Wow, cheesy,” Jaebum quietly chuckles, hugging Youngjae from behind as they walk to the bedroom. “And then you say I’m the cheesy one.”

The funeral goes exactly like Jaebum imagined and he hates every second of it. Youngjae and Auntie go all the way to his grave and watch his coffin being buried. Jaebum chooses to stay far away, feeling queasy; he really doesn't want to look at his face, not even at his dead face. When people begin to leave, Jaebum hears the comments of Youngjae's former neighbors, disgracing him for having left his sick father to go live with another man. The more Jaebum hears, the more he realizes that Youngjae's father had been putting his son to shame. To the neighbors, Youngjae is the villain.

As the only child, Youngjae inherits his father’s money, and the house. Auntie helps him dealing with the bureaucracies that come along with it. Youngjae decides to sell the house and use the money to pay for his and Jaebum’s studies. He also uses part of the money to buy a small studio apartment in downtown; neither Jaebum nor Youngjae want to move out of Mokpo until they get their degrees. It hurts Jaebum’s pride to be living at someone’s expenses again but since he gets to live with Youngjae, he manages to accept the reality. Besides, he has a part-time job and he helps pay for the bills, it’s not like he’s living completely at his boyfriend’s expenses. Youngjae is the first one to get his degree, and Jaebum gets it the following year. The owner of the vet clinic where Jaebum did his internship at was so impressed with his skills and passion that he talked with a fellow colleague of his who has a vet clinic in Seoul, and asked him to employ Jaebum there. And it is with that that Jaebum and Youngjae move back to the capital. Youngjae works three days a week at the Pediatric Ward, and the other two days he works with special needs children at a community center. They live in a cozy, little apartment, they both have good jobs, and finally, they can live life as they want, without depending on anyone else. They are together and they are happy.  

\---

“It still looks the same,” Jaebum says, looking around.

And indeed, everything still looks the same, except maybe for the increased mass of vegetation and the fact that the light blue paint is practically all peeled off now. Other than that, the abandoned swimming pool still looks the same. The moon is huge, accompanied by countless stars that look like tiny diamonds spread all over the velvet-like black sky. A gentle, warm breeze whips through their clothes and caresses their skins. Youngjae can’t tear his gaze away from the old mattress that still is in the middle of the abandoned swimming pool, remembering all the promises that he and Jaebum made to each other while lying there. He puts his hands in his pockets and looks up to the sky; he closes his eyes and lets the breeze play with his hair. Jaebum looks at him with a smile, loving how the gentle wind dances with his boyfriend’s thin hair.

“This feels weird,” Youngjae opens his eyes and looks at Jaebum. “I remember how I felt when I first came here and I still feel the same. This place stills makes me feel home.”

“I know. I feel the same.” Jaebum shows a full-teeth smile, “Can you believe that we’ve been together for ten years now?”

He smiles too, “I was so scared when I first met you.”

“I remember,” he chuckles. “You were playing with the sleeves of your hoodie, you were chubby-cheeked, and you looked so tiny. I felt this instant urge to wrap my arms around you and shield you from the world.”

“But you didn’t,” Youngjae reminds him. He takes a seat on the edge of pool and Jaebum does the same. “You had this cold expression on your face, you’d barely talk, you didn’t let anyone in. It took you so long for you to open up to me.”

“I believed that no one would like to know the real me. Before meeting you, I thought that I was strong and nothing could bring me down, but the more I let you in, the more I realized I was wrong. You made – you still make me feel so strong and weak at the same time.” He looks at Youngjae, his eyes shining with admiration and pure love, “It’s amazing how love can do this to someone. I was so happy when you showed up. You were the first person in a long time that trusted me.”

“And you were the first person that me feel normal. You saw my bruises, you didn’t ask anything, you didn’t pity me, and you even invited me to have dinner with you.”

“I don’t think pretzels and Sprite can be considered dinner,” Jaebum chuckles. “And no matter what you try to tell me that night doesn’t count as our first date.”

“But a trip to the Jeju does,” Youngjae says.

“It was supposed to be a surprise for our anniversary.”

Youngjae grins, “You’re not good at hiding things.”

“Gotta give that to you. But are you happy, at least?”

“Of course I am, hyung. I still have the postcard you gave me for my twentieth birthday. If you weren’t booking that trip anytime soon, I’d do it myself.”

Jaebum leans forward, kissing Youngjae, “I love you. So, so much.”

With his forehead resting against Jaebum’s, he replies, his moisty breath tickling his boyfriend’s lips, “I love you too. You’re my home.”

“You’re my home too.”

As long as they’re together, they are home.


End file.
